and appropriated the boy's
arrows.
I examined another two children. They were beyond help. Inside a
burned hut I found a grandmother who had died trying to shield an
infant. In vain.
Raven exuded disgust. "Creatures like the Limper create two
enemies for every one they destroy."
I became aware of muted weeping, and of cursing and laughter
somewhere ahead. "Let's see what that is."
Beside the hut we found four dead soldiers. The lad had left his
mark. "Good shooting," Raven observed. "Poor fool."
"Fool?"
"He should've had the sense to run. Might've gone easier on
everyone." His intensity startled me. What did he care about a boy
from the other side? "Dead heroes don't get a second chance."
Aha! He was drawing a parallel with an event in his own
mysterious past.
The cursing and weeping resolved into a scene fit to disgust
anyone tainted with humanity.
There were a dozen soldiers in the circle, laughing at their own
crude jokes. I remembered a bitch dog surrounded by males who,
contrary to custom, were not fighting for mounting rights but were
taking turns. They might have killed her had I not intervened.
Raven and I mounted up, the better to see.
The victim was a child of nine. Welts covered her. She was
terrified, yet making no sound. In a moment I understood. She was a
mute.
War is a cruel business prosecuted by cruel men. The gods know
the Black Company are no cherubim. But there are limits.
They were making an old man watch. He was the source of both
curses and weeping.
Raven put an arrow into a man about to assault the girl.
"Dammit!" Elmo yelled. "Raven! . . . "
The soldiers turned on us. Weapons appeared. Raven loosed
another arrow. It dropped the trooper holding the old man. The
Limper's men lost any inclination to fight. Elmo whispered,
"Whitey, go tell the old man to haul ass over here."
One of the Limper's men took a like notion. He scampered off.
Raven let him run.
The Captain would have his behind on a platter.
He did not seem concerned. "Old timer. Come here. Bring the
child. And get some clothes on her."
Part of me could not help but applaud, but another part called
Raven a fool.
Elmo did not have to tell us to watch our backs. We were
painfully aware that we were in big trouble. Hurry, Whitey, I
thought.
Their messenger reached their commander first. He came tottering
up the street. Doughbelly was right. He was worse than his
men.
The old timer and girl clung to Raven's stirrup. The old man
scowled at our badges. Elmo nudged his mount forward, pointed at
Raven. I nodded.
The drunken officer stopped in front of Elmo. Dull eyes assayed
us. He seemed impressed. We have grown hard in a rough trade, and
look it.
"You!" he squealed suddenly, exactly the way Whiny-voice had
done in Opal. He stared at Raven. Then he spun, ran.
Raven thundered, "Stand still, Lane! Take it like a man, you
gutless thief!" He snatched an arrow from his quiver.
Elmo cut his bowstring.
Lane stopped. His response was not gratitude. He cursed. He
enumerated the horrors we could expect at the hand of his
patron.
I watched Raven.
He stared at Elmo in cold fury. Elmo faced it without flinching.
He was a hard guy himself.
Raven did his knife trick. I tapped his blade with my swordtip.
He mouthed one soft curse, glared, relaxed. Elmo said, "You left
your old life behind, remember?"
Raven nodded once, sharply. "It's harder than I thought." His
shoulders sagged. "Run away, Lane. You're not important enough to
kill."
A clatter rose behind us. The Captain was coming.
That little wart of the Limper's puffed up and wriggled like a
cat about to pounce. Elmo glared at him down the length of his
sword. He got the hint.
Raven muttered, "I should know better anyway. He's only a butt
boy."
I asked a leading question. It drew a blank stare.
The Captain rattled up. "What the hell is going on?"
Elmo began one of his terse reports. Raven interrupted. "Yon sot
is one of Zouad's jackals. I wanted to kill him. Elmo and
arrows.
I examined another two children. They were beyond help. Inside a
burned hut I found a grandmother who had died trying to shield an
infant. In vain.
Raven exuded disgust. "Creatures like the Limper create two
enemies for every one they destroy."
I became aware of muted weeping, and of cursing and laughter
somewhere ahead. "Let's see what that is."
Beside the hut we found four dead soldiers. The lad had left his
mark. "Good shooting," Raven observed. "Poor fool."
"Fool?"
"He should've had the sense to run. Might've gone easier on
everyone." His intensity startled me. What did he care about a boy
from the other side? "Dead heroes don't get a second chance."
Aha! He was drawing a parallel with an event in his own
mysterious past.
The cursing and weeping resolved into a scene fit to disgust
anyone tainted with humanity.
There were a dozen soldiers in the circle, laughing at their own
crude jokes. I remembered a bitch dog surrounded by males who,
contrary to custom, were not fighting for mounting rights but were
taking turns. They might have killed her had I not intervened.
Raven and I mounted up, the better to see.
The victim was a child of nine. Welts covered her. She was
terrified, yet making no sound. In a moment I understood. She was a
mute.
War is a cruel business prosecuted by cruel men. The gods know
the Black Company are no cherubim. But there are limits.
They were making an old man watch. He was the source of both
curses and weeping.
Raven put an arrow into a man about to assault the girl.
"Dammit!" Elmo yelled. "Raven! . . . "
The soldiers turned on us. Weapons appeared. Raven loosed
another arrow. It dropped the trooper holding the old man. The
Limper's men lost any inclination to fight. Elmo whispered,
"Whitey, go tell the old man to haul ass over here."
One of the Limper's men took a like notion. He scampered off.
Raven let him run.
The Captain would have his behind on a platter.
He did not seem concerned. "Old timer. Come here. Bring the
child. And get some clothes on her."
Part of me could not help but applaud, but another part called
Raven a fool.
Elmo did not have to tell us to watch our backs. We were
painfully aware that we were in big trouble. Hurry, Whitey, I
thought.
Their messenger reached their commander first. He came tottering
up the street. Doughbelly was right. He was worse than his
men.
The old timer and girl clung to Raven's stirrup. The old man
scowled at our badges. Elmo nudged his mount forward, pointed at
Raven. I nodded.
The drunken officer stopped in front of Elmo. Dull eyes assayed
us. He seemed impressed. We have grown hard in a rough trade, and
look it.
"You!" he squealed suddenly, exactly the way Whiny-voice had
done in Opal. He stared at Raven. Then he spun, ran.
Raven thundered, "Stand still, Lane! Take it like a man, you
gutless thief!" He snatched an arrow from his quiver.
Elmo cut his bowstring.
Lane stopped. His response was not gratitude. He cursed. He
enumerated the horrors we could expect at the hand of his
patron.
I watched Raven.
He stared at Elmo in cold fury. Elmo faced it without flinching.
He was a hard guy himself.
Raven did his knife trick. I tapped his blade with my swordtip.
He mouthed one soft curse, glared, relaxed. Elmo said, "You left
your old life behind, remember?"
Raven nodded once, sharply. "It's harder than I thought." His
shoulders sagged. "Run away, Lane. You're not important enough to
kill."
A clatter rose behind us. The Captain was coming.
That little wart of the Limper's puffed up and wriggled like a
cat about to pounce. Elmo glared at him down the length of his
sword. He got the hint.
Raven muttered, "I should know better anyway. He's only a butt
boy."
I asked a leading question. It drew a blank stare.
The Captain rattled up. "What the hell is going on?"
Elmo began one of his terse reports. Raven interrupted. "Yon sot
is one of Zouad's jackals. I wanted to kill him. Elmo and
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